


Fashion and Flannels

by fabulouslaughter



Series: Autumn Drabbles [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulouslaughter/pseuds/fabulouslaughter
Summary: Lydia has a few qualms about Malia's wardrobe





	

“Shit!” Lydia muttered, instinctively stepping back from the glass of soda that had just toppled over.

“Lydia?” Malia was by Lydia’s side before she even had a chance to pick the glass up, searching for the cause of Lydia’s distress with a worried expression.

“I just knocked over a glass.” Lydia explained causally, bending down to pick the fallen cup off the floor. Thankfully, it wasn’t broken, so the only real casualty was Lydia’s blouse.

“Are you okay?” Malia asked.

“Just a little wet and sticky.” Lydia surveyed the puddle of soda on the floor and determined it would definitely attract a hoard of bugs if not immediately cleaned up. “Where are your paper towels?” She asked, but she spotted a roll on the counter before Malia could respond.

Malia pouted, leaning against the counter and nudging the puddle with her toes. “I’ll clean it up later. We can go back to studying now.” (Lydia knew full well the only reason Malia actually wanted to go back to studying was because studying really meant cuddling on the couch and kissing with math homework sitting in front of them.)

“You’ll get bugs.” Lydia said as an answer, already on her knees and spreading paper towels on the floor. With a huff, Malia kneeled beside her and helped mop up the spill until the floor was cleaned to Lydia’s satisfaction.

“Do you want to borrow a shirt?” Malia asked, once all the wadded up paper towels had been discarded and they had both gotten to their feet.

Lydia looked down at her blouse. There was a large oval down the front that was still damp and felt icky against her skin, and she really did want to get it off. “Sure.”

Lydia followed Malia upstairs and into the coyote’s bedroom, which was, as expected, a disaster. There was a reason they always studied in the living room.

Malia gestured to her dresser, where half of the drawers were hanging open. (Lydia wasn’t even sure if there were clothes in the dresser, considering that she was pretty sure all of Malia’s wardrobe was either scattered across her floor or piled on her desk chair.) “Take your pick.”

Lydia opened a few drawers before she found one that appeared to be full of shirts. Although, full of shirts actually meant there was about five flannels in various colors floating around. Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled out the red and black flannel that was lying on top.

“Do you own a shirt that isn’t a flannel?” Lydia teased.

“I have a few tank tops.” Malia said, not catching onto Lydia’s sarcasm. “Why?”

Instead of answering, Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled off her blouse. She pulled Malia’s flannel over her shoulder and did the buttons. She ended up being one button off, but she didn’t really care enough to fix it.

Lydia wasn’t sure when the shirt had last been washed, but it smelled fine, so it was probably fine.

Malia was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, having pushed a pile of schoolbooks and some towels out of the way while Lydia was changing.

Lydia plopped down on the bed next to her, leaning her head on Malia’s shoulder. “I love you, but your wardrobe makes me want to cry.”

“I like my flannels.” Malia said defensively.

“I’m going to take you shopping.” Lydia insisted, which earned her a groan from Malia. Lydia had tried taking Malia shopping before, and it had always ended in lots of complaining and no clothes being bought.

“Over my dead body.” Malia grumbled.

Lydia would’ve argued, but Malia’s flannel was actually really fuzzy and warm and she was already planning on stealing it. (Which she would never tell Malia, because then she would never hear the end of it).

“You know,” Malia commented, “you look pretty hot in my shirt.”

Lydia laughed. Maybe Malia’s wardrobe wasn’t completely terrible after all.

 

(It should be noted that Lydia did end up stealing the flannel, even though several of the buttons were ripped off by the end of the night due to _someone’s_ impatience.)


End file.
